Sinners and Saints
by 1uvakindmom
Summary: Donatello always wondered just how human him and his brothers were...and he was soon going to get some answers. A series of one-shots of Donatello and April O'Neil from the 2k12 show, set to the seven deadly sins.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own these guys.**

**A/N: Just an idea that popped in my head. This is also my first attempt at anything from the 2k12-verse. Reviews get slices of granola and grapefruit pizza! GO!**

He always knew they were different.

His earliest recollections were of his father's stories of when he was someone else and of the picture placed on the shelf in the dojo. It has hard for a young boy to understand that his father used to look so different. In the picture, his sensei appeared like the people on TV. He never saw anyone like himself or his brothers.

It seemed to bother him more than his brothers. They seemed content to live in their world, below the people their father said would never understand them.

But his mind was restless, thinking. What made them so different?

As he got older, the questions became more intricate, like an elaborate tapestry with no definable beginning. He thirsted for knowledge on human and turtle alike, comparing the attributes of each to themselves, balancing all of his findings on the scales of his mind. Just knowing they were different was not enough.

Just _how_ different were they? Just because they _acted_ like humans, how human were they? Because they still _looked_ like turtles and were born as turtles, how "turtle" were they?

He never knew where to draw the line. And being a scientist by nature, he lived in the black and the white. The grey was the realm of theory, of uncertain postulations, areas he instinctively needed to bring out of the haze and into the light of fact. However, his family was unique and with such a one of a kind sample population, he feared he would never reach a definitive conclusion.

Little did he know that at the age of fifteen years, the answers would come to him in the most unexpected way: in the form of a human girl named April O'Neil.

**A/N: Very short intro chapter, it's more of a prologue, setting the scene. **


	2. Wrath

**Disclaimer: TMNT does not belong to me.**

**A/N: I'm writing these as they come to me, and thus as one-shot chapters with a tied theme, they aren't in any chronological order. I will be sure to mention in an author note when they take place in the 2k12 continuity. This is a speculative piece, taking place sometime in Season 2. Obviously since Season 2 has not aired yet, anything that happens here may not end up being cannon. In that case it will become AU, I guess. That being said, this is also my first attempt at writing the 2k12 Turtles, so I hope I do an alright job at it. I'm trying for an emotional feel, but since Mikey is starting it, I am trying to add some humor as well. I hope it works. I am going to try to keep everyone as in character as possible. Thanks for reading!**

_**Wrath**_

Michelangelo at first was not sure what had awakened him. In the last lingering fog of sleep, he attempted to rub the gritty feel from his eyes and cast a glace at his alarm clock. It was flashing a steady 12:00 AM, casting its eerie red light into the otherwise darkened room. Apparently, he had forgotten to reset the thing after the last time Donnie had blown a fuse in the lair - but at least it was a convenient excuse for sleeping in.

He yawned widely and stretched his arms above his head, bringing them down in an arc. He readied himself to return to sleep (his bed just happened to be very fluffy and inviting), when he heard it: a faint series of crashes and muffled shouts emanating from downstairs. His awareness instantly sharpened and he snapped to attention, the grogginess shoved aside as a child does to much hated vegetables.

He leapt to his feet with the grace of a cat, his comforter flying off of him as if desperate to escape and landing in a crumpled heap on the floor on top of the various unidentifiable substances littering the ground. He debated grabbing his chucks, but decided against it. After all, what were the odds of an enemy finding the lair? He knew Leo would have chastised him for being thoughtless...but then again they _all_ seemed to chastise him for being thoughtless, when he could really argue the point!

"Dude!" he muttered to no one in particular. "My mind is _always_ full of thoughts. Lessee..." he counted off on his fingers as he brought each idea up. "Skateboarding...comics...video games...great music...movies...pizza..." his stomach growled loudly. "Boy am I hungry...I think there's left over pizza in the fridge...hmmm."

He shook his head, clearing it for the task at hand. In all reality, it was probably just Raph downstairs in the dojo having a midnight "turtle tantrum". Definitely would not have been the first time...

He padded over to the top of the spiral staircase and peered down curiously. The stairs circled down, disappearing as they were engulfed in the hungry maws of the dark. The blackness that greeted him from below was unsettling, growing in the pit of his stomach and spreading vile roots throughout his being.

Silence reigned now, and he was instantly reminded of a horror movie he had watched the other night, and felt as if he were replaying a scene from it in that instant. Maybe he should have brought his chucks after all...

He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and made his way cautiously down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, his baby blue eyes widened, hoping to suck in any meager illumination he could. He could see he faint outline of the furniture in the living room, Leo's Space Heroes pinball machine flashing faintly to the side. Donatello's lab door was open a crack, the light from the inside piercing the shadowy surroundings like a distant train at the other end of a tunnel. The dojo stood empty, which nixed his earlier theory of it being Raphael. Perhaps he had imagined it?

However, that idea was laid to rest as soon as it crossed his mind. His head snapped in the direction of Don's lab when he heard a loud smash in sync with shouted curses. It didn't sound like Raphael at all...

He cocked his head to the side quizzically as he headed over to the door to Don's lab. He peered through the crack his mouth forming an "o" of shock as his hand raised to cover it in shock. He gasped and blinked a few times, wondering if he was dreaming. From what he could see of his older brother's lab, it was in shambles. His computer lay in shattered pieces on the floor. He could spot the corner of the desk overturned, the posters from the wall torn to shreds which were scattered on the ground. Donatello stood facing the other direction, his shell facing Michelangelo. The genius turtle's shoulders were heaving with every heavy breath, his fists in tight balls at his sides. His bo was clenched in his right, and Mike could see it quivering with the trembling of Don's hand. His head was lowered, his purple mask tails flopping over his left shoulder, limp and lifeless.

Mike's fingers curled around the edge of the door, hesitating in pushing it aside. He felt torn. He _wanted_ to go in and comfort Donnie, but a part of him felt like he would be intruding on a private time; something he was not meant to see. His heart and concern won out, and he slowly slid it open just wide enough to fit through. He jerkily shimmied in, standing shell against the door for what seemed like long minutes. For once in his life, words escaped him. All he could hear were Don's raspy breaths drawing on into an emotional infinity. His purple clad brother's body seemed to be radiating rage, curling through the air like a choking smoke. It almost made Mike afraid. He knew Don had a short fuse at times, but this was more intense than anything he had ever experienced from his brother.

He took a few awkward steps forward, shaky and unsure like a newborn deer.

"Donnie?" Mike asked quietly upon reaching his brother, his wavering voice betraying his uncertainty. He placed a comforting hand on Don's shoulder. "Dude?" He scanned the disaster of the lab again. "Did you switch brains with Raph or something in some mad scientist experiment?"

Donatello remained silent for a few moments, but the quivering of his body intensified, vibrating up Mike's arm like the fearful crescendo of a forceful orchestral piece.

"April doesn't love me, Mikey," Donatello whispered in response, his voice oddly calm for one with such body language.

"Of course she loves you," Mike answered back, attempting to sound innocent. "She loves all of us, bro."

"Don't play stupid," Don snapped back, more raw emotion beginning to bleed into his words, "you _know_ what I mean. She doesn't love _love_ me..."

Mike had indeed known what Don meant, but he also knew it was a touchy subject with his older brother. It was an unspoken agreement between Leo, Mike, and Raph to tread that water _very _carefully, lest they be caught in the catastrophic flood. Mike wished desperately that it was anyone else _but_ him in here with Don right now. At least Leo had a little experience with this sort of thing...to Mike, girls were still held at arms length in the swimsuit issue. Not that being a mutant turtle helped...

"Umm..." Mike chewed his bottom lip nervously, trying to formulate an appropriate come back. "How do you know that for sure, Donnie? It's not like she ever came out and _said_ it to you..."

At this, Donatello whipped around, his brown eyes narrowing into treacherous slits. Any control he had seemed to slip, and the thunder clouds rolled in, threatening and dangerous. His jaw clenched tight, he hissed, "She didn't _have _to, Mikey, I saw everything I needed to."

Don's sudden movement and flash of emotion made the smaller turtle wince away instinctively, but he held his ground, bracing himself by placing his right foot behind his left, on edge and ready to flee. He did not think Don would really hurt him in any way, but experience told him it was best to be ready to escape his brothers when they were peeved with him (Dr. Prankenstein had many enemies). Not that Don was upset with _him_ exactly, but the orange clad ninja had to be prepared if the situation were to shift.

"What...do you mean?" Mike asked, his words carefully measured and drawn out.

"I saw..." Don's voice hitched in pain, as if reliving the memory physically harmed him, and then his voice grew harsh and angry. "_Them."_

"Them who?" Mike asked, trying to uplift the mood. It was all he felt he could do: feign ignorance and try to make Don feel better. "The pizza delivery boy? Is he cheating on me?"

"_NO!_" Donatello yelled, bristling like a riled feline. "I saw..." and then the genius deflated, his shoulders hunching forward, the emotional strain finally taking its toll. He felt drained and exhausted, as if every hope had been plucked from his mind like flowers picked before their time, never having a chance to be seen in their full glory. "Them, Mikey," he continued, his voice defeated, trampled. "April had come over for me to help her study for a test tomorrow, as you know. And after she left...after you guys had gone to bed...she forgot her bag...so I..." he choked again, closing his eyes tightly to compose himself and hold off the tears which burned in his eyes like deadly fire. "I went to bring it home to her...and on the fire escape..." His words trailed off, disappearing into the oblivion of his mental anguish.

"Go ahead, Donnie, it's ok, dude..." Mike said gently, prodding his brother. Maybe talking about it would help...

"Her...him...that..._hooligan_..." Donatello's hands began gesturing fruitlessly in wild circles like a hamster stuck in a wheel. "That _Neanderthal_," he spat the word like a repulsive curse. "That _brainless buffoon_ KISSED her, Mikey. Casey kissed my April." The last sentence was strangled, the words full of sorrow and loss. "I...I wanted to _kill _him, Mikey. I got so mad, so angry, I had to run away before I did something stupid, something I would regret. I could never live with myself if she hated me..."

His brown eyes bore in to Mike's blue ones, as if silently imploring him to have all the answers, as if there was some logical explanation for it all. Don's tears sat wreathing his lower eyelids, unshed and glittering in the dull light of the lab.

"I don't like feeling like this, Mikey," Donnie admitted. "This...wrath...eating me inside...it feels more corrosive than hydrochloric acid. What does he have that I don't?"

Mike's expression became abnormally serious as he responded in a hushed tone, "He's a human, Donnie."

Don turned away from Mike again, placing a hand on the wall to support himself and gazing down at his feet, where he wiggled his toes as if subconsciously testing Mike's previous statement. He sighed heavily, the exhaled breath uneven and rickety, like a bridge ready to collapse.

"We are sentient, we _feel,_" the last word seemed entirely aimed at himself. "What makes us so different? Why can't she love me for who I am?"

"Donnie," Mike grinned ruefully, "if I had a pizza for every time I asked myself what makes us so different and why can't I go to high school or the arcade or the skate park, I'd be one faaaaat dude. And she does love you, like I said..."

"Just not like I want her to," Donatello finished, the admission adding to his burden.

"No..." Mike agreed, the word a barely audible whisper.

"And I still feel so hurt...and _mad_," Donatello continued, as if Mike had never said anything. "Those are _human_ emotions. No turtle feels that way."

Mike shrugged as if this was everyday knowledge to him. "I guess it goes in with the mutant turtle thing."

Don turned his head slightly, gazing at Mike from one eye from his peripheral vision. "Do you ever wish we weren't mutated at all? That we had just remained regular turtles?"

Mike's eyes widened at the unexpected question. "No way, dude! It might be a hard life we have at times, but at least we have each other, and _know_ we have each other. Think about all the cool stuff we'd be missing out on...I mean I love Spike as much as a dude can...but he's booooring. Walk around, munch a leaf, bask in a light, munch a leaf, sleep. Pffft." He waved a dismissive hand. "I would never know that I had an awesome bro like Donatello who is totally the smartest dude ever born, human or turtle. And not knowing anything would suck." He stuck his tongue out at Donatello playfully. "And don't you say it! I do know stuff...lotsa stuff...lotsa cool and interesting stuff."

Don's mouth twitched at the corners in the smallest motion of a smile. He turned around and engulfed Mike in a crushing hug.

"Thank you..." he murmured.

"Anytime, bro, anytime," he wheezed through the choking hold.

Donatello released him abruptly, a blush lining his cheeks in embarrassment.

Mike cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Why don't I help you clean this place up, Donnie? We can get everything straightened up before everyone wakes up and realizes you pulled a Raphie in here," Mike offered. "Raph might not like knowing he has some competition," he winked impishly.

"I would appreciate that, Mikey, thanks again," Donatello said gratefully.

Mikey nodded curtly in acknowledgement as he turned over the desk and began to gather the computer pieces. He watched Don covertly, frowning at his half-hearted motions, the hurt and anger still evident in every heavy step. He could only hope that as time wore on, Donnie would learn to over come these demons, and not be consumed by them.


	3. Gluttony

**Disclaimer: I don't own the boys in green…WAHHH!**

**A/N: First, I want to deeply thank everyone who has taken the time to review, favorite, follow, and read this story. It truly means a lot to me and keeps me going on this! THANK YOU! This takes place in speculative Season 2 as well, but before Wrath, the piece before this one…a few months before, I'd say. Poor Donnie…the angst ensues…**

_**Gluttony**_

Donatello and his brothers were as different as night and day. Each of them held their own strengths and quirks, enough to make them the objects of their enemies' nightmares…and enough to drive each other crazy at times, as siblings often do. However, there was one thing that there was no denying the four brothers had in common: their mutual love for pizza. Eating it was almost as much an art form to them as ninjitsu, and an hour ago Don's stomach would have been growling in anticipation as soon as the enticing aroma hit his nose. But at the present time, the mere thought of ingesting another slice of the greasy triangle delicacy was making his already stuffed stomach roll in protest.

His hand shaking, he slowly reached out for another piece, the hesitation evident in the jerking motion. Across the kitchen table, April eyed him suspiciously as she took a bite of her own piece, chewing it in a distracted manner. Donatello's face appeared a shade green lighter than normal, a look of disgust subtly lacing his features and reflecting in his brown eyes. It was clear to the human that he was attempting to cover up this reaction, but failing at the endeavor.

"You…ok, Donnie?" April asked after she swallowed, an edge of amusement in her voice as her tone's inflection rose slightly toward the end of her question.

Donatello nodded vigorously as he bit off a small piece, drawing the mozzarella out to impossible lengths where it flopped down in a droopy semi-circle. He coiled it around a finger and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it deliberately and going on to swallow it with false bravado. He rubbed his stomach enthusiastically and chuckled nervously.

"Yep…perfectly fine…delicious! Think I'll have more!" his words were uncertain and forced, as he plastered a non-convincing, wide grin on his face, his teeth glinting in the dull light of the kitchen, accentuating the gap in the center of his top teeth.

"You sure about that, Donnie?" April queried in return, not at all convinced. "I've never seen you eat so much; you're giving Mikey a run for his money here."

"Mmmmhmmm!" Donatello mumbled through chews. "Starving…must be going through a growth spurt…or something…teens do that…boys my age, I mean…since girls your age already have…obviously you have…since you're developed…" he gulped when she shot him a bemused, yet slightly irritated glare. "I mean...I didn't mean like that…," he cleared his throat as he pointed a finger and raised the hand, "in fact…did you know…"

April's brows furrowed in confusion as Donnie droned on about the anterior pituitary gland, and something called somatotropin being the growth hormone. Truth be told, she was only half-listening as the genius turtle went through his science tirade. She attempted to be polite and feign interest by nodding periodically and maintaining eye contact, but she was subconsciously fidgeting in her seat and darting her eyes to her watch. Donatello noted her body language, but it only showed in a slight faltering of his voice, a few of his words sounding unfocused.

"…and then Mikey recited War and Peace from memory and Raph got the lead in the Nutcracker with the New York Ballet…"

"Very interesting, Donnie," April commented in a distant tone, her gaze lingering on her watch.

Donatello's voice trailed off, lost in the awkwardness that took its place; the realization that she was not paying the slightest bit of attention to anything that he had just said. He dropped his half-eaten slice on his plate and glanced at the wall, his mind racing.

_Why can't I just say it? Why am I such a coward? How hard is it to say: April, I love you? April, you're amazing…everything about you makes me come alive? Instead I stumble over my words and drone on about growth hormones as if she cares? This is not going how I wanted it to…STUPID! STUPID! _He thought, his frustration growing at his own inaction.

The genius had pictured everything so differently. He had seen tonight as the perfect opportunity, the one chance to unleash everything he held so tightly away…before it was too late…before she fell in too deep…before he lost her forever…

_But did I ever really have her in the first place?_

His brothers were out patrolling, probably due back at any moment now, and Splinter was meditating in his room.

_Did I ever even have a chance?_

Faking a cold and then inviting April to dinner had seemed so simple in theory; it worked on his flow chart…

_But is anything ever simple? _

Stuffing down pizza like it was going out of style was getting him nowhere…but he was willing to do anything to draw this moment on as long as possible, even if it meant eating more pizza than a mutant turtle was meant to ingest.

"They should be back soon, don't you think?" April remarked, oblivious to Donatello's internal monologue. He returned his attention to her, the faint hurt etched in his eyes not registering in her own.

"Hmm?" he asked before the question she asked clicked in his wandering mind, the true meaning behind her words hitting him like a physical blow. It took all his willpower to not be sent keeling onto the floor; he held his ground. "Oh…yah…sure…"

April smiled that luminous grin that made his insides melt.

_Only it's not for me…_

"That's great…it's getting late and Casey promised to walk me home," she stated energetically, bouncing to her feet. "I'm going to go wait in the den for them. You want to come with me?"

He was forced to once again avert his gaze, his face paling at the mention of the human. He let out a stiff, strained chuckle and stared at his now cool pizza.

"Umm…no…that's ok…I need to finish my dinner here, you know how Mikey feels about left over pizza…like it's a crime or something," he waved a dismissive hand at her.

She nodded in acknowledgment and left, humming a nonsensical tune. Donatello watched her leave, every bright step dimming his own thoughts.

_How's that saying go? _

He heard hoots of laughter, and soft leaps over the turn-styles at the entrance to the lair. Raphael was boasting about something, Leonardo reprimanding him on the intensity of his voice as it echoed through the lair.

_If you love something…_

"Hey, babe!" the cocky, unwelcome voice that carried into the kitchen made him wince.

Donatello picked up the piece of pizza before him, and half-heartedly took yet another bite. His stomach ached, and part of him knew it wasn't solely from the food.

"Hi, Casey! And I told you not to call me 'babe'!" April responded, the joy and admiration in her tone clutching at Don's heart.

"So hows about that walk home?"

…_let it go…_

**A/N: This pretty much wrote itself…**


	4. Pride

**Disclaimer: TMNT don't belong to me.**

**A/N: I first want to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, favorited, and read this story. It means a lot to me! This installment takes place shortly after "Showdown", the Season 1 finale, and before "The Mutation Situation" the first episode of Season 2. **

_**Pride**_

Ever since his boys were small, Splinter had tried to instill in his sons a sense of humility; to teach them that pride impairs one's judgment and makes one blind to possible dangers which may lurk in the shadows. They sometimes forgot this, and were reminded the hard way that it is never a wise choice to let down ones guard…but they were young and had not yet fully gained what experience offered to teach. Their youthful minds were excitable and overconfident at times, each victory reinforcing that mindset deeper into their adolescent psychies. Splinter dreaded the day when this mentality would backfire on his boys like an overpowered engine with a blocked exhaust. Yet he also knew something he found himself repeating to them like a personal mantra: with experience, comes wisdom.

They had been carrying on like this for days now, their exuberant young voices carrying through the lair with the energy of a puppy on caffeine. He loved his sons, but even this excess was beginning to grate on his nerves like nails on chalkboard. One ear twitched in annoyance as he attempted to take a deep, calming breath to resume his meditation, his lungs filling with the spicy scent of the incense he had burning at the moment. His hands rested upon his crossed legs, his eyes closed gently. However with every shout, every crash emanating from the den, his lids squeezed tight and his teeth gritted in irritation. He could feel his hands clenching into fists, his breathing exercises no longer having the soothing effect on his nerves he desired. He slammed both fists onto the ground then grabbed his walking stick tightly in his right hand as he rose abruptly to his feet all in one graceful, yet angry motion.

He stalked to the exit, each clawed foot peaking from under his robe as they advanced forward in succession. His staff clicked upon the ground with each step, the rhythmic clacking seeming to give voice to his otherwise silent vexation. The ninja master let out a sharp exhalation of air before reaching the arched opening to the dojo which led into the den. His son's voices became clearer the closer to the exit he became. One voice in particular caused him to pause, the animated rise and fall of its tone going straight to the mutant rat's heart and freezing him in his tracks.

"Donatello…" he breathed.

"You know the best part, guys? _The best part?_" Donatello gushed, the gusto filling his words seeming to buzz through the air.

"Dude!" Michelangelo interjected. "What best part? All of our epic-ness was the best part!"

"Totally!" Raphael's deeper voice rose above the youngest turtle's. "'Cuz we are just _that awesome_!"

"Hmmhmm!" Leonardo hummed in agreement. "We are heroes in a half shell!"

Raphael's snort of amusement carried to their father's ears. "I thought we were turtles, Chief, since when did we become oysters?"

"Well…" Leo began, fumbling awkwardly for a response to something he obviously thought sounded cool.

"No, no, no," Donatello admonished, as if speaking to a gathering of children. "It was April guys…_April!_" He sighed dreamily. "She called me her hero…_me!_ Did you hear?"

Splinter knew his hot-headed son was rolling his eyes. "Uh, right, Donnie, cuz we had so much time to listen when we were _running for our lives!_"

"Whatever, Raph, I'm her _hero_, and that's all that matters," the genius finished, his words filled with his self-imposed pride.

Splinter placed a hand upon the wall, his brow furrowing in thought, his whiskers twitching. He shifted his gaze to a shelf on the wall and rested upon a picture displayed upon it. His expression softened, growing wistful and laced with sorrow.

He worried for his son Donatello at times more than his other sons, for how deeply his genius of a son was falling for the human. He knew it would probably lead to heartache in the end, and most likely by no fault of his purple masked son, but simply by the hand the boy was dealt in life. Donatello needed to learn to play the cards given to him. It would be a hard, painful lesson, but not one Splinter could ever teach his son on his own.

Splinter sighed deeply as his eyes remained on the picture, locked on the image of the beautiful young woman encased forever in the frame.

"Tang Shen…" he spoke in a pained whisper. "What should I do…?"

His mind flashed images of his dead wife, the emotions reaching from the depths and squeezing painfully around his heart. He remembered the way she made him feel, the depths of his love for her, as deep and fathomless as the sea: like he could accomplish anything, like he was born to be with her alone. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes twinkled when he told her he loved her, the pride with which she gazed down at their daughter…

Splinter eyes snapped shut as he ripped his head away sharply from the picture, defensive walls building themselves in his mind against the memories. His hand left the wall and softly fell to his side. He turned his gaze to the floor, taking a drawn-out, languid breath, and willing his raging emotions into submission. In a way, he understood more of what his son felt than he had ever spoken to him of. Maybe he would sometime, just to let his son know that he did understand; he _empathized_ with him.

He turned and headed sluggishly back to his spot under the tree, every step feeling heavy and labored. His tapered tail dragged upon the ground, his original purpose of heading to the den pushed aside for the time being. He would have some words with them eventually…and with Donatello…but for now…for tonight…he would let Don revel in his pride.

**A/N: I didn't plan on this turning into a Splinter piece, but it did! **


End file.
